Andrew Wells: Demon Summoner
by Saul Good
Summary: Andrew had faced down demons, sorcerers, even beings who had called themselves gods; he was nowhere near the definition of the word coward. After his years with the Council at the front lines of a secret war, some would even call him a hero.
1. Chapter 1

Time Frame: A decade or so after both BtVS &amp; AtS finales.

Rating: T-Mature (cuz Faith still curses like a sailor)

This story contains several gay relationships, consider yourselves forewarned.

Legalities: All B:tVS characters are that of the Mighty Whedon and his glorious intellect. This work is meant only in celebration and nothing ulterior.

* * *

Chapter 1 \- A Man In A Suit

Andrew Wells stared at himself in the mirror. His tie was Windsor knotted, his crisp white button-down shirt was spotless, and his gray pinstripe suit was perfectly tailored, his lucky official Federation badge shined in the light. He was the picture of a professional, even a successful man. Jean-luc would be proud. He did not feel that way. Another deep breath and he made his way out the restaurant bathroom. The afternoon sun shone through large windows near the table his party sat.

Andrew Wells was not a man who scared easily anymore. Younger, he had a penchant for running and hiding, but he had grown up considerably since then. Gone was the babbling nervous nerd, and now he was a confident, more reinged in nerd. Andrew had faced down demons, sorcerers, even beings who had called themselves gods; he was nowhere near the definition of the word coward. After his years with the Council, at the front lines of a secret war, some would even call him a hero.

Yet, having brunch with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's family, made him want to run out the door and never come back. His fear was pushed to the side with each step through the crowded restaurant toward his party's table. Taking a seat next to his boyfriend, Mark, gave him some measure of confidence.

The two had been dating for almost a year now and Mark had decided to make the big move of having his family meet Andrew, much to the uneasiness of his parents, who barely accepted their youngest son's lifestyle. Both self-professed huge geeks, cosplayers and video-game junkies, they had so much to bond over which only added to the quiet consternation of Mark's parents.

The Finns were all dusty blonde like Mark, with his parents sporting grays. Iowa natives, around the table sat Rob, the eldest son, Brooke, the younger sister and their parents Joel and Nancy. They were a conservative bunch though their children were much looser on those ideals. Joel, coming from an military-blue-collar family, had a hard time adjusting to the new truths of the world. Gays and homosexuals just being...well, God knows what. But him and Nancy were good Christians, and Christ said to love more than anything, or at least to accept, and so they did. They accepted their son, the gentle child he was. They even accepted an invitation for brunch with his, lord help them, boyfriend. Of a year! Set up by their cousin! Joel Finn would have words with Riley one day.

"So Andrew, Mark was vague about exactly what you do." Nancy started, she was polite but reserved.

"Um, I run the supplying part for my company." Andrew answered easily.

"He heads the logistics department for a multinational charity." Mark gave his boastful clarification.

"Logistics?" Rob interjected with a quirked eyebrow. "Doesn't that usually that means big guys hauling things." The inference was not missed, standing at five feet and six inches with an almost scrawny frame, Andrew was not a big guy at all.

"Rob, that's not it at all." Mark defended, annoyed at his brother's words.

"Actually, when we started, that's what it was." Andrew admitted becoming reminiscent. "In fact, there were only two of us doing it in the beginning. We were moving furniture, equipment, cooking, cleaning and with Xander, the other guy, being there before me, I was pretty much the lowest man on the totem pole." he explained.

"Me and Xander, we were the only fetch and carry people for a long time, then we expanded and got more organized. When the South African sub-divison opened up, Xander went to run logistics there. I stayed in the Cleveland home-base but transferred when the New York offices opened. Now, after all that, I'm the guy who tells the big guys where to haul things, but on an more national and sometimes international level."

It was the most mundane explanation he was willing to give. The truth was that his whole department did their best to streamline movement and communications for slayers and watchers in the field for the Council, though the logistics department still looked over some of the more menial side of things.

"International?" Brooke asked, she was in her teens and with her father holding a blue collar job all his life and her mother being a home-maker, she had never met person at Andrew's level of corporate management before.

"Yeah, we've got a lot of people everywhere, and my people have to make sure everyone knows where everyone's going." Brooke and Nancy seemed a little impressed. Rob and Joel were unmoved.

"He's helped the whole company stay connected. He even had a cellphone app made for company employees." Andrew's boyfriend revealed eagerly.

"App?" Rob asked, mildly intrigued.

"It's called 'the Big Board.'" Andrew explained with a dismissive wave. "Even before we started, when all we were doing just taking care of runaway girls, I tried to keep everyone on track with a giant whiteboard in my friends living room. I kept calling it 'the Big Bard' and the name just stuck." Sudden thoughts of tending the wounded in a cramped house on Rovello drive invaded Andrew. A long pause left the family awkwardly waiting watching the well dressed man's thousand yard stare. Joel cleared his throat and Andrew continued right along.

"Then, we started calling anything that was part of overall planning or communication for the company 'the Big Board'. At first it was just a dumb joke that no one took seriously but me, then it got more crucial as we grew. The app kind of connects everyone's cellular device. All you need is a smartphone with company access and it can connect anywhere with a signal."

"What exactly is it your company does?" Joel asked his big shoulders a little stiff from his almost easing internal tension .

"A few things, really, but we focus on charity work. For that side, we help young women out of terrible situations all around the world. Then we get them into schools and jobs, if they need it." Mark's mother nodded at that, their family gave often to such causes.

"We also do a lot of work with the Red Cross and Greenpeace, but Xander's the one that really handles all of that. He was always the field guy, and I was always the research guy."

"Where are your offices?" Joel asked trying to keep the conversation going. There were a lot of things Mark's father didn't want to talk about with his youngest son's boyfriend but focusing on work seemed like a readily safe topic.

"Here, actually upstairs." Andrew pointed up with a finger. The family reflexively looked to the ceiling. The restaurant they were eating in was in the lobby of a large skyscraper in downtown New York City. "Fifteenth floor and up is all company property." Andrew supplied. He thought a moment and added, "And I think we have a couple sub-basements too."

"Sub-basements?" Rob asked.

"Yeah, right below the shooting range." Andrew revealed. The Council's armory was maintained in the building, and keeping stock of guns and ammo was part of the watcher's responsibility. The Finn family then saw their father's eyes perk into bright attention, as though an on button was pressed somewhere on his person.

"Shooting range? Here?" the father of three asked surprised.

Andrew Wells, Watcher of the Council, nodded his head. "Oh yeah, this building is federally contracted to have one, which helps a lot since all senior staff are tested every few years."

"Tested for what?" Joel was lost.

"Pistol, at the minimum. I qualify for marksman actually." Andrew boasted shyly.

"No way a _nancy_ like you can shoot better'n me." Blurted Rob, who regretted his words immediately. Mark gave his older brother a dirty look The rest of his family looked aghast; borne of Midwestern hospitality, they were a people who did their best to maintain propriety. Andrew seemed unphased.

"Robert Finn." Joel growled at his eldest son. "Apologize. Now." He instructed, and the younger man looked sincerely chastened.

"Aw, I'm sorry. Andrew. That came out real bad." Rob took back his words with an embarrassed scratch to the back of his head.

"It's okay, Rob. I've been called worse." An easy smile with another dismissive wave of his hand. Joel let a low achem before speak, letting the table know they had finished that discussion.

"From everything you've just told us, it makes you sound like a paperwork kind'a guy. What do you need to be sidearm tested for, Andrew? " Joel Finn asked gruffly.

"To be field rated and ready." Andrew's brows knitted. He should have lied, but a command voice was drilled into him after being trained by Riley Finn and working side by side with Xander's Solider-boy for so long.

"You're out in the _field_, son? For what?" The rest of the table's interests were piqued. Even Mark had never heard this side of Andrew Wells before. He came off as a shy and successful CO and the charity line was used often around company for the year they were together. Guns? When did his boyfriend start shooting guns?

A heartbeat and Andrew replied. "Oh, a lot of things." A waiter approached with a smart-phone in a silver tray and signaled for Andrew's attention. With a nervous "Excuse me." Andrew got up from his seat and left the table. His boyfriend watched him go.

As he walked away, Andrew sighed knowing they would be discussing him now. "_Field duty? Nice lie, Mr. Professional-Liar."_

He internally berated himself for the accidental truth he let slip. A shake of his head and he regained his focus. He wondered who would call, the next hour and a half was booked as personal.

The watcher put the phone to his ear and heard a single word. He took a deep breath that only Mark noticed. His shoulders tensed going up and down before Andrew set the smart-phone down. A waved and circled motion with his finger to the waiter and the young woman briskly walked off, intent clear on her face.

Andrew walked back to his table nearly as fast.

"Well it looks like the restaurant has to close." Andrew spoke hurriedly.

"What?" Joel asked scrunching his big eyebrows incredulously.

"So, I thought you guys would like to a quick visit to the range." He practically pushed off Joel from his seat and got the family up and out and away from glass windows and open spaces. Waiters and other restaurant staff did the same to other patrons, emptying the suddenly closed restaurant. Almost shoving them along, and garnering semi-startled looks from Nancy and Joel.

Andrew and the Finn family made a bee-line through a thinning crowd towards a door that would normally have guards posted at either side. He moved them underground, to an armory. Through the door, a small foyer section was also unmanned. Andrew entered first, checking his Big Board app as he stepped.

"Hello?" He called. "Esther?" There was no answer.

"Andrew? Who are you talking to?" Marked asked as the Finns spilled into the room. Like the good military family they were, Andrew shushed them with a hand motion.

"Esther, it's okay, I see you on the Big Board. You can come out." Andrew soothed.

"I'm over here." was returned from the check in booth. Coming closer, the family saw a small girl sitting farther in the back corner of the booth hidden behind a counter that was normally manned by at least one guard. The young girl had bright red hair in pig-tails and freckles covered her face.

"Hey, sweety." Andrew asked gently.

"I know you, you're Mr. Wells." the girl declared with a point.

"I am, Esther." Andrew nodded. "How do you know me?"

"My mom works here, she usually sits at the counter." Esther revealed. Andrew knew the woman, Barbara was her name he believed.

"Where's your mom now, Esther?"

The girl, no older than twelve, peered around the watcher to the Finn family behind him. "Are they Council, Mr. Wells?" Esther whispered, and Andrew smiled at her. She was a smart girl.

Andrew shook his head no.

"She got called upstairs. Said it was important." Esther spoke with her eyes as well as her mouth, Andrew understood both. "She told me to stay here and be quiet, that she'd be right back." The child explained casually. "I can take you guys down if you want." She looked to the family as she started up.

"It's okay, Esther. I know the way." Andrew offered. "Okay, everyone follow me." He started walking. Mark hurried next to him.

"Is she okay, Andy?" His boyfriend asked worriedly. His family looked agitated after being rushed over here before they could finish their meals.

"Yeah, her mom just needed to take care of something real fast. I told Esther she could come with us."

"How'd you know she was here?" Joel asked, a little uneasily.

Andrew ran this building, and it's security sensors ran through the Big Board profile on his phone. "It's my job to know where everyone is." the watcher shrugged before opening a door.

The watcher stumbled backwards as a shotgun came out barrel first. "Don't move." Came a hard but feminine voice behind it.

"Stand down!" urged another.

From the door came two dark figures, the first a woman, petite and would have been pretty if not for her angry scowl behind a gun. The second was a tall and broad man with brown hair and an eye-patch. The small woman charged through the threshold, forcing back Andrew and the Finn family.

"Wells?" she growled out.

"Andrew!" Cried the man, happily.

"Guys? What are you doing here!"

"Tactical genius here got us stuck in the freight elevator." The small woman jerked her head to the one-eyed man behind her. She rested her shotgun on her shoulder as she spoke and wore a tactical vest, tight jeans and combat boots. She had a machete strapped to her back whose handle peeked out from behind her.

"No one told you to shoot out the cables, Faith. The master strategist you are." He shot back dismissively. The man sported an old brown leather jacket, black fatigue pants and guns holstered to his hip and chest, he would have seemed dangerous if not for his friendly demeanor.

A lopsided grin and a handshake approached Andrew. The woman disappeared into the shadows the the stairs with an eye-roll.

"Hey, am I glad to see you! Listen, from a guy who's seen the situation with his own eye, pay no attention to the read outs, this whole thing is totally recoverable." the one-eyed man began explaining.

"Xander Harris, did you lose my building?!" Andrew demanded of the taller man.

"No way, Andy. This is just defense mode, this place is still ours, mostly." The larger man reared back with his hands up in front of himself defensively. "We just need to take out their main mojo guy. Which is where you're comin' in Andrew Wells, my man." Xander glanced up and over the smaller man and finally noticed the bewildered and agitated Finns.

"Who are they?" Xander asked with a point.

Andrew only sighed dejectedly.


	2. Chapter 2

Time Frame: A decade or so after both BtVS &amp; AtS finales.

Rating: T-Mature (cuz Faith still curses like a sailor)

This story contains several gay relationships, consider yourselves forewarned.

Legalities: All B:tVS characters are that of the Mighty Whedon and his glorious intellect. This work is meant only in celebration and nothing ulterior.

* * *

Chapter 2 \- A Bit of a Situation

"Crap! Did I blow your cover?" Xander Harris, watcher of the Council, cringed.

"Yes, Xander!" Andrew yelled at the chagrined taller man. "You want to delete my Skyrim main save file too? Or you could just shoot me in the foot! Again!"

"Those were accidents! One time! One time and I spend the rest of my life apologizing for things I did not mean to do!" The one-eyed man whined.

"I lost a toe Xander!" The Finn family, minus the youngest son, discreetly turned their attention to Andrew's feet, all wondering which one it was.

"That's how you lost your pinky toe?" Mark exclaimed.

"It was an accident!" Was Xander's reflexive defense. He looked over to the young man and remembered the situation.

"You told me you lost it from frostbite!"

"I, uh..." Andrew's anger at Xander was forgotten at his boyfriends words. "It's just that he means we uh..." he looked over to Xander hoping for any kind of support from his from his friend. Catching Andrew's eyes, the taller man got the cue and became suddenly jovial.

"Hey, everybody! I'm Xander Harris, pleased to meet you!" he thrust his hand out at the eldest male and hopped for the best.

Reflexively, Joel took the hand and shook it manfully. "Joel Finn, this is my wife Nancy, and my kids. Andrew here, dates my youngest, Mark." he finished with a slight twitch in his words. Mark, looked confused and irritate but his upbringing allowed the introductions to continue.

"Really? That's great! Listen, I know ol' Andy here going on a almost decade now. He's a great guy." Xander spoke hurriedly as he shook hands with Joel and gave friendly nods and smiles to the rest of the Finn family. "But here's the thing, we have a little bit of a situation upstairs that we need Andrew to put on his Big Boss hat and help us take care of it."

Andrew Wells was a mother bear when it came to the building he ran in downtown Manhattan and Xander did not want to admit the fact that he may have lost several floors to a demon attack, no matter what number or how well coordinated it was. It was obviously not welcomed news, but he knew his fellow watcher would not stand idly by while anything happened to his baby.

"And that situation needs shotguns and pistols?" Rob, the eldest son asked incredulously. Andrew looking down and pinching the bridge of his nose, breathed a deep sigh.

"Right now, it needs Andrew." Xander answered simply.

"Well, brunch is officially shot to hell now." Andrew whined.

"Andrew!" Mark, exclaimed, finally unable to take anymore of his confusion. "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"Language!" a shame-faced Nancy standing behind her husband admonished her youngest son while holding hands over little Esther's ears.

For a moment, Mark looked down embarrassed, but then remembered his anger. "Andrew," the watcher heard his boyfriend say his name in a desperate breath, "what is happening." Mark asked his boyfriend of a year, there was a pleading tone in his question.

Andrew opened his mouth but he was interrupted by the return of the dark woman that arrived wielding a shotgun, Faith, Joel remembered her name. She slid out from the shadows of the next room.

"We gotta lotta enemies, kid." Was her explanation as she walked towards the little scene, her weapon slung over her shoulder.

"You're a charity organization, Andrew, what could you possibly do to make enemies?" Mark asked looking back and forth from Faith to Xander then to Andrew. The frustration in his voice was clear by its tremble.

"We rescue girls." Andrew shrugged, Faith snorted and continued for him.

"Usually from crap situations, but sometimes, it's from crap people." She told the Finns, a hard look on her face. "There's a lotta people out there that ain't as nice as you folks, ain't as polite." The last word had an sharp edge to it. "We take these girls from these fractions of people and they get angry 'cuz they think we stole property from them." Joel and Rob frowned as they listened Faith to while Nancy and Brooke made distraught faces. "These girls - they ain't thought of as people, just things." the dark woman spit out.

"So they come at us, sometimes to take back what they think is theirs, sometimes they do it just to hurt us, to put us in our places." Xander added.

"So you guys are, like, under attack by some kind of, like, slavers." Brooke asked, naivete in her words.

"More like a well-funded criminal organization." Andrew specified.

"Terrorists." Joel nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, _terrorists_." Xander rolled his eye but was unseen in the low light. "Most of our top brass has had to deal with these jerks over the years. Helps that we all know how to handle ourselves in these kind of situations."

"That why you know how to shoot, son? " Joel asked of Andrew, seeing his youngest son's boyfriend in anew light. There was true mettle beneath the soft tailored cloth.

"Sometimes I have to be in places that are pretty crazy, or be around people who are crazy-dangerous," the watcher admitted, he looked to his boyfriend apologetically, "and it's the worst part about the job for me. I kind of hate it. Like a lot. so I try not to to talk about that side of things to people outside work. Most of us don't even want to deal with it all anymore." Andrew gave Xander and Faith a glance. "But we have to, someone _has_ to. People," Andrew gave a sad look to Esther, "sometimes, little girls who are barely old enough to understand what's even going on, they depend on us."

The young watcher held his hand out to Xander and made a give-me motion to him. Without a word Xander pulled another pistol from his back waist and handed it to his comrade. Andrew took it, pressed a button by the the weapon's grip and the magazine slid out. Checking its ammo in the light, Andrew continued speaking.

"I've been doing this for a while now, Mark and it's a big part of my life. I can understand if you're angry with me right now for all the lying I've done, but we can talk about that later." With a dramatic flare Andrew slapped the magazine back into it's housing, pulled the slide back to check the chamber with a loud CLACK CLACK and tucked it into the back of his belt. "Right now, I've got work to do." Mark stood speechless, he had never seen this side of his boyfriend before, so assertive, so authoritative, so unbelievably hot.

"I can get us up there, but once we're there, I'm in charge." Andrew looked pointedly at Faith.

"I don't take orders from you, Wells." The slayer half snarled. Andrew rolled his eyes at the expected reaction.

"Jeez, Faith, give it a rest. It's his house, he gets to call the shots." Xander reminded.

"Whatever, as long as I get to bust some heads." Faith acquiesced with scowl.

Xander gave a lopsided grin at his fellow watcher, who took the lead immediately. They headed down a stairwell and down a hallway towards the gun range.

"I have a private express elevator going to my office at the range, which floor are the baddies on?" Andrew asked for the situation.

"Twenty-six up to thirty-one," the shorter watcher scowled hearing that and Xander was quick to get the rest out, "the good news is we got them bottle-necked at both ends. We've kept skirmishing with their main body so they can't organize enough to make headway up or down."

"How are your people?" Andrew inquired.

"We lost a few here and there, but we're still strong," Xander's face became thick with angry resolve, then gave his comrade a glance, "stronger now with you."

Andrew frowned as though that was bad news. "What's the bad?"

"The bad is the head mojo guy is setting up something big between floors twenty-seven and thirty. We don't know what it is but all wiccan intel is telling us it's some seriously dark juju." Xander looked as though he had something else to say but decided against it. Andrew did not press.

"What's the worse?" He asked instead.

Xander frowned, hoping that he didn't have to explain it right then. "If we lose this, southern New York is gone."

"What do you mean?" Andrew asked confused. Even the Finns looked to Xander, not understanding his words.

"The power they got going on? Don't worry about N.Y.C., everything between here and Montauk is the chicken at last year's barbecue."

"Burnt." Andrew remembered the terrible buffet at the yearly Watcher's retreat.

"You mean they got some kind of nuke up there?!" Joel exclaimed.

"Might as well be, whatever it is, this is big bad stuff."

They stopped at a door which Andrew promptly opened the door to a weapons cache. Weapon-racks of firearms, boxes of ammunition ran in columns across a well lit room with metal double doors at the rear. On the walls, body armor hung on hooks besides various swords and knives.

"Everyone grab whatever you can." Xander called out as he began rifling through the racks. Joel Finn handed weapons out to his children.

"You're Barbara's kid, right?" Faith called to Esther.

"That's my mom." the small girl nodded.

"C'mere, I gotta ask you something." Faith told her. She looked at Nancy who was making a disapproving face. "I ain't gonna bite her, just gotta talk to her."

"I go to Summer's Academy Mrs. Lehane." Esther told the dangerous looking woman by name, knowing what she was going to ask. "I'm taught the lessons there."

Nancy made a face, she knew she was missing something in Esther and the dark woman's exchange, but could not figure out what. Faith seemed satisfied and made a slow nod.

"Good." She went to the weapon racks and grabbed a knife and a short-sword. She raised both weapons at Esther and asked, "Which one?"

"You can't honestly expect her to..." Nancy spoke up, shocked at the idea of the small child fighting.

"The knife and a baton." Esther interrupted with a point to the rack.

"Sure thing, kid." Faith returned the sword and reached for a nightstick.

"The collapsible one, please."

Faith moved her hand over to the child's preferred weapon and picked it up off the shelf. "It's the real thing up there, you get it? You have to take this seriously."

"I will, Mrs. Lehane."

Nancy, still aghast moved as though she was going to try to take the weapons from the child but Esther began examining the weight of the knife, flipping it in the air before her and catching it as the older woman pulled back, seeing the child easily handle the large blade.

"You're in charge of keeping them safe, okay? What ever gets passed me and the others, it's your job to put down. You understand kid?"

"Yes, Mrs. Lehane." the child replied with a nod as she she gave a careful inspection of her given baton, flicking it out, twirling it in her hand and twirling it with practiced ease.

"Stop talking to her like that, she just a child!" Nancy admonished Faith, who ignored her and asked the child another question.

"What's rule number one kid?"

"Don't die."

"Good girl." Faith made a nod to Esther and gave a deprecating look to Nancy. "We're good to go Wells, break time's over." she called to Andrew who was now armed. Joel and Rob both held shotguns and Brooke found a pistol.

"Let's get to work." Andrew announced as he pressed the button for the elevator, and it's double doors slid open.


End file.
